


Drabble Collection - December 2018 & January 2019

by Judy_The_Dreamer



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins, Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Drabbles, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, fic ideas, short fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-09-16 22:48:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16962945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Judy_The_Dreamer/pseuds/Judy_The_Dreamer
Summary: A collection of drabbles that might one day grow out to be full-fledged fics. For now, they'll linger here.





	1. 10,000 Dollar Baby

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate universe: Tony is Darcy's adoptive father.

Darcy Stark left the hospital five hours after she'd entered the world in the arms of a man who'd just made the best choice of his life, although he didn't know it yet.

Years later, she'd try to imagine the scene as it had played out in that maternity ward. Her mother's face - always blank, always a stranger - accepting the wad of money Tony Stark tossed onto her bed sheets. Baby Darcy hadn't been in the room during the exchange, resting in a separate room, unaware of her entire life changing thanks to a tidy sum of 10,000 dollars.

Whenever Dr. Lewis presented her research at medical conventions across the world, Darcy wondered if it had been worth it. Then she would toss the publication away or change the channel and enjoy the fact that she had at least one parent who had her best interest at heart.


	2. Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Established Superhusbands/Stony and implied angsty business. If you want to place this in the MCU, it's probably somewhere after Age Of Ultron or Civil War at the least.

Tony sometimes wondered how anyone could love his hands. Scarred, burned, rough on the pads of his fingers. They were the antithesis to every mask he'd ever build up for people to see; a mangled representation of what he'd become inside. Perhaps that was why Steve couldn't seem to get enough of them.

When the barrier of lies grew suffocating, his hands were the only piece of honesty they'd left between them. Tony was glad to let them speak in the quiet moments, when they lay all tangled up in each other, sated physically but never truly satisfied. And if Steve secretly desired the hands he clasped to be smoother or more dainty than the real thing, he'd never once let it show.


	3. Mage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age AU, future Cullen/female Trevelyan.

Cullen had a great many things more to worry about than an Avvar with authority problems, beginning with the Mage seemingly attached to his side. Her figure was slight compared to the Avvar's bulk, but Cullen knew that judging a Mage on appearances alone was pure folly, and a great deal of good men and women had fallen due to their ignorance.

If only he could get a measure of her personality through expression, than he would have an idea of what he was up against, but the Mage's face was cast in shadow by her hood and the metallic glint of an Avvarian totem mask. Perhaps a calculated move on her part since it would make hunting her down significantly more difficult, granting her companion time to neutralize the threat.


	4. Archdemon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age. Siege of Denerim.

The great roar of the Archdemon reverberated between the crumbling walls of Denerim, its tremors encouraged by the screams of at least a thousand battling Darkspawn. Cerwynn Mahariel buried her secondary weapon, a brilliant Silverite dagger, into the throat of a screeching Hurlock and blinked away the blood spattering up into her face. Above her, the great towers of Fort Drakon reached for the muted sunlight that barely broke through the darkened clouds. Just a few more stairs and she would be the closest to the heavens she'd ever been. Shame the Horde would be ruining the view.


	5. Attraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age AU. Male Cousland/Zevran Arainai.

Sometimes Daerion caught himself thinking back to the days before he spent every waking hour combating nightmares come alive. Days before he had grown so used to the rain and mud he barely bothered to clean up his leather boots, the last gift his father had acquired for him, and just let the cold seep into his bones. In those days joy had come so easy, a quick peck behind the barracks enough to fill him full to bursting for the rest of the day. Every kiss a bittersweet moment of happiness which he could have never divulged about for fear of a disapproving scowl, or worse, a painful goodbye.

Right now, the fact that only men's kisses could make him tingle all the way down to his toes seemed petty compared to the bigger picture. Here nobody cared if a second son would never father heirs, they only cared how well he could swing a sword. And Grey Wardens only gave a fuck about a man's courage when face to face with the Horde. In fact, Daerion had an inkling that Cerwynn Mahariel couldn't care less if he swept every man they came across (except for her Alistair, never him!) off his feet for a quick romp in the hay, as long as she didn't have to be witness to the fine details.

And the elf, oh that _damn_ elf, always shooting him sly looks and, apparently, an unending supply of lascivious conversation starters. Daerion fell in a confusing mix of rage and desire every time the assassin opened his mouth to divulge one of his secrets. He liked to think he might just try out some creative means of shutting the elf up. In private, of course. Now, _that_ brought on more than a tingle in his belly.


	6. DAO: Cerwynn the Mage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm playing around with the idea of my canon Warden secretly being a mage. A bit like Dalish from Inquisition?

"How many of your clan are aware you're a mage?" Duncan looked deceptively calm, but all the same Cerwynn felt like somebody had cast a particularly nasty ice cone on her. She eyed him nervously. His daggers were still sheathed, though she knew that meant nothing with his superior reflexes.

"Besides Tamlen? Only the Keeper, and I suppose Merrill suspects after the cave." She turned back towards the flames of the campfire, hoping to stave off the chill that accompanied her memories of that place. "I've always been careful to craft my own weapons, so no one could question why my quiver never runs out of arrows."

"Smart." Duncan agreed. "But unnecessary after you've undergone the Joining."

Cerwynn strongly doubted that the hostility of most soldiers would magically disappear after a simple ritual.

Duncan must have read her disbelief on her face, because he was quick to continue: "Grey Warden Mages are free under the Order's treaties. No one from our ranks will be discriminating against you, though I cannot speak for those outside the order." He gave her a wry smile. "Frankly, I think we could all use a staff or two more in combat. We're short on magical back-up as it is."

"I'll make myself useful then."

"I'm sure you will."


End file.
